He's waiting on the terrace to his grandmother's Upper Level Coruscant apartment when she arrives home in her speeder. He's never been here before, but this feels like something of a homecoming. His mother used to keep an apartment in the same ultra-exclusive residential quadrant adjacent to the Old Senate District during the years before the New Republic capital moved to Hosnia. Pre-Clone Wars co-op buildings like this are prime real estate. Especially top floor apartments with their own small private landing platform. Lady Vader lives well, he's learning.
She's happy to see him. "Is that really you, Lord Ren?" she calls as she climbs out looking stiff. "Or are you projecting yourself?"
Projecting? She thinks he's Force projecting? The effort would probably kill him, but he's flattered she believes he's powerful enough for that sort of thing.
"Snoke used to project himself here when we were plotting together long ago," the Professor continues as she turns back to the speeder cockpit to retrieve her walking cane and purse. "For a time, every night when I came home, I found Darth Plagueis the Wise on my terrace lurking." She smiles absently at the memory. And this is what he loves most about this aristocratic old lady—her casual small talk is about the secret subtext to the galaxy's present-day conflicts. In this case, about the little known Sith plot to unite the Empire and the Rebellion against Darth Sidious. Lady Vader knows all sorts of secrets that never made it into the history books—he's absolutely sure of it.
Just now, she shakes her head and her lined eyes twinkle at him. "How Snoke loved his cloak-and-dagger atmospherics. He would project himself looking as creepy as possible for maximum gravitas. Lord Vader thought him quite the show-off, which of course meant my husband was thoroughly intimidated."
Kylo decides there's no need to enlighten his grandmother on the limits of his own powers, but he refuses to be outdone by the Muun. So, he smoothly postures with a respectful answer, "I would not project to you. I would always come in person."
"Good boy," she beams. "Now, come here for a hug."
He happily presents himself for her embrace. He barely knows this old woman, but he unabashedly adores her. It's partly because she loved Lord Vader, but it's also because Astral Sidhu completely approves of him. It's a new experience to enjoy that sort of goodwill. No one in his family has ever accepted him like Lord Vader's widow has. They all had expectations and conditions. Even Rey has a few unspoken limitations for their relationship. In the face of all that, Astral's regard is a great feeling.
"Let's go inside, shall we? The night air makes my arthritis hurt. I'm so old, it's a wonder I'm still alive," she sighs. "I thought for sure Exogol would be the end of me . . . but here I am."
She flashes her palm print at the security sensor on the patio wall and stands still for the optical assessment. Kylo watches, amused. "Retinal scan? That's military grade tech."
She gives a ladylike snort. "It's from thirty-five years ago, so basically it's junk. A bird could blink at this thing and get let in. Vanee had it installed after the Rebellion sent men here one night. He wanted me to feel safe." She sighs over the memory. "Your grandfather had many enemies. Now, watch your step here at the threshold. I've had more than one guest face plant upon arrival."
He dutifully takes care not to trip as he steps in and looks around. "Nice place."
It's a very nice place. His princess mother had a posh apartment but it was nothing like this. Lady Vader lives like an Empress in exile. Her apartment looks like a holonet series set piece or some celebrity's stylish private home ready to be photographed for an architectural digest. To his untrained eye, it's a mix of antiques and modern design. It's not the sparse aesthetic that is currently in vogue. Instead, there are vibrant paint hues and sumptuous patterned fabrics. Kylo notes the expensive looking objet d'art scattered about on display, even as he perceives that the real showpieces hang on the walls. This art professor's abode is replete with abstract canvases. Altogether, the place just screams taste and credits.
She catches his admiring glance. "Your grandfather bought this apartment for me. I've had it ever since. Something to drink?" she invites as she puts down her belongings.
"I'll have what you're having," Kylo offers, trying to use his best Crown Prince of Alderaan guest manners.
It prompts her to laugh. "Are you sure? Because I'm pouring myself a stiff drink."
"Hard day?"
"You tell me," she smiles as she putters over towards a kitchen area. "Things must be pretty bad for the Supreme Leader to come here. I thought you were busy negotiating a ceasefire. Or did the Republic turn you down?"
"We're still talking."
"Good," she approves. "Did Snoke send you? Or is this about trouble with Rey?"
Time to come clean. "I came to talk about Alderaan."
Astral's back is turned to him, but he sees the old lady stiffen at the mention of the doomed planet. She pauses momentarily in the act of reaching into a cabinet for glasses. But then, she resumes her task. She busies herself making drinks as she answers thoughtfully, "Alderaan . . . Now that's a topic I haven't talked about for a long time . . . a long time . . ."
Kylo stays silent. He watches as she finishes and then crosses the room to offer him a glass of liquor. He accepts, she clinks her glass with his, and murmurs "Cheers," before she downs hers in one great big gulp.
He blinks. Grandmas sip at their watered-down brandy. They don't take it like a shot in a bar during a night on the town when they're about to do something reckless and unwise.
Astral gasps slightly from the potent swallow and smiles a little sheepishly. "I needed that if we're going to talk about Alderaan. Sit down," she instructs, "while I go pour myself another."
Is this old dame going to be drunk by the time they get around to talking about Hosnia? Kylo hopes not. But he seats himself and she returns. With new drink in hand—this one she sips at—they begin the discussion he came for. He wants to know what it takes to prosper as a survivor of an event like Hosnia.
"Tell me about the aftermath of Alderaan. How did you move on?"
Astral thinks a moment before she answers. "I had your grandfather. He helped me immensely. I owned exactly two dresses, an overnight bag, a comlink, a datapad, some jewelry, and some makeup. My bank was vaporized, so I had no access to credits. I had no job, no friends, no family, and no place to go for help. In an instant, I lost everything. My life was turned upside down."
He nods. His mother dragged him to enough weepy Alderaan memorials in his youth for him to have heard many versions of Astral's experience.
"I spent the first few months afterwards at the castle on Mustafar helping your grandfather convalesce. It kept me from falling to pieces. And I was looked after—I had a place to live and food to eat. Everyone but your grandfather respected my sorrow and gave me space to grieve."
"Lord Vader wasn't sympathetic?" That's probably not a surprise. Sith Lords aren't much into empathy.
Astral shrugs. "Your grandfather was a stoic survivor. He was Mr. Tough Love. He knew from experience that if you don't move on from grief immediately, it gets much harder to do so later. I think he wanted to keep me from repeating his own mistake."
"What mistake?" He's not following.
Astral sits back into the couch cushions and steadily meets his eyes. "Before I came into his life, Lord Vader spent twenty years pining for your true grandmother. He adored Padme Amidala in life, and she became his obsession in death. He blamed himself for her loss. It was why he wanted to find Luke and your mother so badly. He felt he owed it to Padme to protect their children from his Master."
That's a very different version of Darth Vader's motivations than his uncle and mother believed. But like so much of his family history, it depends on your perspective, Kylo has learned.
"He tried for years to resurrect her with the Force . . ."
This is news. "You mean like Plagueis did for me?"
"Yes. He never managed it. I think in the end that was a good thing. He always said she would be terribly disappointed in what he had become. I know he himself was very disappointed by how his life turned out." His grandmother looks down as she slowly reveals, "Lord Vader thought he was a failure. He wasn't, of course, but that's how he perceived things. He thought he had let everyone down by losing to Obi-Wan. It meant he was too weak to kill his Master and bring balance to the Force. And without balance, he knew there would be no lasting peace in the galaxy."
Astral blinks watery eyes fast and recalls herself to the topic at hand. "Listen to me rattling on when you asked about Alderaan. Where was I? Oh yes, at the castle while your grandfather recuperated. Eventually, Lord Vader resumed his duties. That's when I had to face the reality of my predicament. By then, I was over the shock of the news but overwhelmed at the prospect of rebuilding my life. Your grandfather understood . . . he once abruptly lost everything. He knew what it meant to adjust to an unwelcome new reality."
"His injuries . . ." Kylo nods.
"Yes. The man was as gruff and as blunt as everyone says. Lord Vader could be terribly rude and jaw-droppingly caustic," she disapproves, "but still . . . The man was remarkably sensitive and perceptive at times . . . " Astral's voice trails off as she clearly remembers something significant that she doesn't share.
"So . . . you came to Coruscant?" he prompts.
"Oh, yes. Even though I had left him, he graciously had Vanee settle me here. Your grandfather bought this apartment, had it furnished, and gave me a hefty bank account balance as well." She smiles as she chuckles. "You should have seen the flashy hotrod speeder he had Vanee purchase for me. It looked like a podracer. It was totally inappropriate, but it was very Lord Vader. How he loved his ships."
"Wait—you left him?" There's a story there.
But Astral is vague about it. "Uhmm, yes. Initially, I did. I was in no hurry to sign up to be Lady Vader. I had seen firsthand the dangers. I didn't know what was worse—the Rebels who wanted to kill him or his Master's assassins."
He's curious. "What changed your mind?"
Astral's lined face softens as she declares, "I loved him. Plus, he needed me. It was nice to be needed by someone again. Independence can be overrated, Lord Ren."
"So you were fine with his role in the Death Star?" Kylo gently goads.
"Oh, Lord Vader was never fan of the Death Star. That was Sheev's doing. And what Sheev wanted, Sheev got."
Oh, come on. "Lord Vader was there with my mother when Moff Tarkin fired on Alderaan." He's heard that story more times than he cares to count. How Darth Vader and his henchman gleefully made his mother watch the destruction of her homeworld and her adoptive family in real time.
Astral immediately disagrees. "Tarkin had the command and gave the order," she insists. "But not before he had words with my husband behind the scenes beforehand. Oh, they put on a unified front before the princess. But don't mistake that for Lord Vader's complicity." She wags a bony bejeweled finger at Kylo now as she assumes the role of her husband's staunch apologist. Astral Sidhu is emphatic. "Lord Vader opposed the Death Star. That was widely known within the Imperial power structure at the time. Unfortunately, all of those men died at Endor or in the battles that followed. No one survived to tell the truth of the matter."
She explains, "Over the years, your grandfather had been neatly omitted from the first Death Star project. Sheev knew his Apprentice well. He knew Darth Vader would oppose it when he understood how it would be used. My husband only took over the effort to recover the stolen Death Star plans in part because he knew his Master would suspect him of leaking them to the Rebels-that's how well-known his views were behind the scenes." She adds, "Honestly, I think he might have been secretly rooting for the Alliance at Yavin."
Er . . .what? Kylo blinks. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows.
She perceives his skepticism. "It's true," she insists. "I was there to watch my husband confront his Master. I heard what he told him. I saw how cruelly Lord Vader was punished for it."
Even if all this is true, there is the problematic replacement project to contend with. Kylo goes there, challenging, "What about the second one? Lord Vader oversaw the construction of the second one."
"Yes, and he dragged his feet and created as many construction delays and supply shortages as possible," Astral answers plainly. "Lord Vader really was the deep state of the Empire. A covert foil to his Master in that and so many other things. He was very sly about it. So, while Darth Vader is on record saying the Imperial party line on every topic, don't mistake those words for his private opinions."
Kylo nods slowly. He understands completely. Suddenly, impulsively, he blurts out, "I didn't like Starkiller Base." There. He's said it out loud. But this is a safe space.
Astral Sidhu gives him a sympathetic look as she reaches to clasp his hand and squeeze. "My boy, I know what it means to be the Apprentice. I understand what it means to have Sheev Palpatine as your Master." She looks down as she volunteers, "I forgave you grandfather's role in the destruction of my homeworld. And I forgive you for Hosnia."
Oh. Kylo doesn't know what to say to that.
"I know that the true blame lies elsewhere with Lord Sidious."
He nods, still avoiding her eyes. His conscience is pricking him big time right now.
And now, the conversation gets even more uncomfortable as Astral point-blank asks, "Have you forgiven yourself?"
Kylo looks down and thinks. No, not really. He mostly avoids thinking about it. So, sheepishly he offers, "I have accepted it."
She nods. He's certain she notices his verbal distinction.
"I was never a dissenting voice to Snoke," he admits awkwardly. "I knew what he was doing and how he planned to use the Starkiller. I never opposed him in any way." He wasn't some highly placed dissident within the First Order ranks. Mostly, he was uncomfortable with what Snoke had planned, so he attempted to adopt a strategy of blithe indifference. So, we're going to blow up a planet. Whatever . . . Sure, it was immature. But it was Hux's command, not his. Hux was the Tarkin to his Vader role in Darth Sidious' latest Death Star, Kylo decides.
Has he disappointed Astral? He hopes not. This woman's opinion matters to him. So, he slides uneasy eyes her way.
"It wouldn't have mattered had you objected," Astral's tone is firm and tinged with an insider's knowing wisdom. "Sheev Palpatine would have gotten his way."
That's true. "Even now, I can't disown the Starkiller Base like Rey wants," he confesses. "It's too politically problematic. I can sell my side on a ban for new super weapons going forward—they'll be okay so long as I assure them it's a lie. But I can't apologize for Hosnia. The extremists on my side love what happened to Hosnia." It's ghoulish payback and ugly overkill that's very First Order.
Astral tells him plainly, "Everyone expects an apology for Hosnia as part of a peace deal. The Republic is clamoring for it." She shoots him a reproving look. "Don't you think they deserve it?"
He bristles. "Maybe so. But it's more important that we agree not to build a new weapon. My people might believe it's a lie, but I intend to keep that commitment."
Does she believe him? Again, his grandmother shoots him a knowing look. "Lord Ren, you and I both know that the only way to keep that promise is to kill Darth Sidious."
"I tried . . . " he whines a little. "But as long as he's out there somewhere and his people exist at all levels within my government, I cannot disavow him."
"Because they all think you are the dutiful Apprentice ruling in his stead while the Sith Eternal put him back in a new clone?" Lady Vader probes.
Damn, this woman is perceptive and informed. Kylo reacts, "You know about that?"
"Lord Vader knew about his cloning obsession. First, Sheev cloned an army, then he tried to clone Jedi children. He succeeded in cloning poor Snoke into that caricature."
"Plagueis says Sheev Palpatine has no new ideas," Kylo recalls aloud his last conversation with the Muun.
The old lady harrumphs, "A third Death Star wasn't exactly original. And neither," she sighs, "was trapping the next generation of Chosen One for his Apprentice. Lord Ren, I do not know your experiences. I only know Lord Vader's experiences. It was enough to make me pity your position long before we ever met. I never saw your face behind that mask, but I knew it was you. I knew your parents lied about you dying at Skywalker's Temple."
Kylo thinks now of the single confrontation with his mother after he destroyed the Temple. She had bitterly condemned him in tears. That memory, together with what he's hearing from Astral tonight, have him angry anew about the conspiracy of silence about the true identity of his grandfather. Because but for that huge lie and but for the schism in his family that kept Darth Plagueis in exile and Lady Vader in hiding, he might never have pledged fealty to the puppet Snoke. Kylo ruefully realizes that in many ways—maybe the most important ways—he truly has relived his grandfather's life.
The man Snoke encouraged him to idolize is far more complex than history recounts. It helps Kylo feel more kinship with his fearsome grandsire. But it also makes him long for the man's guidance and teaching. Alas, it was lost forever on the second Death Star because his idiot Jedi uncle stupidly refused to rule the galaxy with his Sith Lord father. And that's how the burden of making things right falls upon his shoulders. He needs to finish what Darth Vader started . . . and that's a tall order. He has to bring peace, freedom, justice and security to his New Empire. He has to kill Darth Sidious once and for all. And he has to balance the Force. No pressure . . . no pressure at all. At least he has Rey to help.
He's getting sidetracked on his own drama. Kylo drags his mind back to the topic he's here for. "Tell me more about how you moved on from Alderaan." There are lessons there, he's sure of it.
"It took time. Grief is hard," Astral states bluntly. "For several years after Alderaan was destroyed, I went to the annual memorials. I even participated in some holonet survivor communities and recovery networks. But I drifted away from that after a while. I moved on. Others never did, but I had to."
"Why?"
"Well, it was necessity at first. But over time, I became more interested in the future than in the past. I didn't want my identity to be as an Alderaan survivor. That is part of who I am, but not all of it. Your grandfather once told me that the best way to deal with a painful past is to make a better future. He spoke from experience, and he was right."
Kylo nods glumly and blurts out, "I wish I had known him."
"He was the best starfighter in the galaxy and a cunning warrior," Astral proclaims proudly. "But when I knew him, he had become mostly an overworked administrator. There was very little he did not oversee in the Empire." The old lady looks wistful now as she laments, "Had Lord Vader had his way, things would have been much more moderate and evenhanded. He would never have allowed the Rebellion to form in the first place. But form it did, and then it had to be dealt with. Lord Vader was determined to quash it so that the civil war of his youth would not return. He very much wanted to bring order to the galaxy."
He can relate. Kylo very much wants his own legacy to be more than simply more war.
Astral cocks her head at him as she urges, "However you deal with the Hosnia issue, the end goal has to be to make things better. All people want a safe and secure society once again. All people want peace. Give that to your people in the Rim and let the Republic handle it here in the Core. It's the only way the galaxy will move on."
"That's the plan," he nods. Still troubled about Hosnia, he ventures to ask, "Do you think I can get away without an apology?"
She puts him off. "That's not for me to decide."
"Don't equivocate on me now. I want to hear what you think," he presses. As a pro-Sith Alderaan survivor, this woman is uniquely positioned to see both sides of the issue.
But now that he has confessed his sins, it seems he has reached the limits of his grandmother's absolution. She tells him plainly, "I think an apology is in order. But the people who need to hear it most are dead. So, if you're willing to ban all future super weapons, that's enough for me. And I would think that's enough for the rest of the Core."
"Rey thinks I need to apologize for all of what the First Order has done and accept responsibility."
Astral considers a moment. "Do what you can to make amends. But focus on the future more than the past. That's how people move on."
"Rey wants more transparency from the Order. She thinks it will build trust."
Pragmatic Lady Vader disagrees. "No one's going to trust you, Lord Ren, no matter what you do or say. But if it will get you to peace, by all means do it."
He nods, "I might have to. Rey thinks the only way to let the past die is to confront it and to allow others to confront their personal pasts as well. She wants me to open the stormtrooper files and prisoner records . . . things like that . . . to life the veil of secrecy."
Astral frowns and thinks a moment. "The past has value, but truth is very subjective. And these days truth is especially hard to divine thanks to all the fake news. So, what you present as truth will immediately be doubted."
"You don't think transparency has value?"
"I do. I simply caution you to expect haters. And Lord Ren—"
"Yes?"
"Confronting the past might be helpful. But if you ask me, the only way to let the past die is to accept it and to forgive it."
"Forgive it . . . " That's not helpful advice because no one in the Core will forgive Kylo Ren. Well, except for this woman.
"That's where your mother and Luke went wrong. They modeled the future off the past. They were both so fearful of becoming their father. So angry with him. They couldn't begin to understand his perspective, let alone accept him and forgive him."
Kylo nods. "They never got over it. My mother hated Vader. My uncle convinced himself of some fairytale narrative that Vader turned to the good side in the end. Luke couldn't accept Darkness in his father, let alone in himself . . . or in me . . ."
That's what set things into motion dividing the Skywalker clan for yet another generation. Paranoid Luke tried to execute him in his sleep for being just like Vader . . . and just like Luke himself. For it is the original sin of the Chosen Ones to be forever tainted by Darkness-to be conflicted. And that's the point, Kylo firmly believes. Because only someone with one foot in the Light and one foot in Darkness will be able to straddle the great divide of the universe to find balance.
"Forgive the past to leave it behind," his grandmother urges softly. "Lord Ren, I'm not just talking about Alderaan and Hosnia. Get your people in the Rim to forgive their grievances against the Republic. Make peace and go your own separate way."
"Make a better future?"
"Exactly. Like I did."
His grandmother is not a young woman and she's looking tired. So, Kylo stands to take his leave now. "Thank you," he tells her sincerely. He needed this talk.
She smiles up at him. "Where are you going? Sit down. My lord, you can't run away before I feed you dinner."
He shakes his head with true regret. "I can't stay—it's too dangerous. But I promise to come back."
"Oh, very well," she concedes. "But come see something before you leave." Astral slowly and stiffly climbs to her feet. She's leaning much more heavily on her cane than earlier, Kylo notices. But dutifully, he follows her down a hallway into a room. It's her bedroom.
"Oh," he reacts to what she brought him here to see. He immediately marches further into the room for a closer look.
"It hung in the living room for a time, but then I moved it in here."
"I . . . I . . ." He's at a loss for words as he stares at the large imposing portrait painting that can only be Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.
Astral starts supplying information as he stares intently. "It was Snoke's for many years. He purchased it for sentimental reasons even though it's quite good and very valuable. It was part of a series of works painted by an artist who had been a clonetrooper serving under your grandfather. He painted Anakin from memory as he knew him. Alas, the artist never completed many canvases. Like all the clones, he aged far too rapidly and suffered from lingering health problems. This and another ten or twelve works are all that remain of his catalog."
"It's . . . it's . . ."
"It's wonderful," she finishes simply.
"Yes." The painting depicts his grandfather standing in classic Jedi ready position, blue lightsaber lit and poised to strike. His jaw is set and his face is tense. Whatever odds his grandfather is facing against an unseen enemy, they don't look good from his perspective.
"Snoke gave it to me after Endor. He wanted me to have it to remember Lord Vader by. My husband looked nothing like this when I knew him, of course. This scene is from years before we met. But the artist captured the essence of the man, I think. That's unmistakably Darth Vader."
Kylo is no art critic, but he recognizes the sympathetic portrayal by the artist. The clone had admired his Jedi General—that's very clear in the heroic, back-to-the-wall, against-all-odds depiction of the handsome subject. Anakin Skywalker might be a little doomed from his expression, but he is defiant nonetheless. Clearly, he wasn't going down without a fight. And that seems very true to the spirit of a man who clung to life for decades in a biomedical suit, refusing to succumb to crippling injuries.
His grandmother now muses, "I know Snoke expects this back when I die. But I'm leaving it to you, Lord Ren. I want you to have it to remember your grandfather by."
"I had his helmet. I dug it up on Endor years ago," Kylo reveals. "But it was lost with my star destroyer in the war." He's still upset about that.
"This will stay safe. No one but myself, Snoke, and my insurance agent know it's here," Astral assures him. She gushes, "It looks so like him. Even burned and scarred, he was the same man."
"The Chosen One . . ." Kylo whispers aloud, still a little awed by what he's seeing.
"Yes. Do you see your resemblance?"
"Yes." He's seen many pictures of Anakin Skywalker before but none like this. He's fascinated. "I wish I'd known him."
"When I see you, my boy, I can't help but see him. It's in your expression and in your walk. In your resolve and in your sadness . . . yes, I see your pain. He had it, too," Astral tells him.
"Rey, as well," Kylo volunteers, thinking of her years of suffering on Jakku. And come to think of it, all the Chosen Ones have lived lives of extremes and loss.
"Yes, she's a prickly one," his grandmother observes of Rey, "but I like her. I like her a lot."
"I love her," Kylo blurts out.
His grandmother isn't surprised in the least. She just smiles and prods, "Have you told her?"
He volunteers more honesty now: "Yes, but she doesn't like to hear it. It makes her feel pressured."
Astral looks thoughtful a moment before she gives him more advice. "Be gentle when Rey shows you her scars. It is easier to assemble armor than to remove it."
"I suppose . . ."
Looking across at the wizened old woman who captured the heart of his grandfather in a midlife romance, Kylo thinks that Lady Vader must be an expert at perception. For she alone could see the handsome hero depicted in the painting amid the scarred, masked villain the galaxy feared. Astral saw the good in Darth Vader when no one else could. Just like how Astral sees the good in him long after his uncle and his mother gave up. Only one other person in his life has ever seen the good in him straightaway . . . and it was Rey. Rey. It gives him an idea.
He leaves his grandmother, taking off in his speeder to join the anonymous throng of Coruscant early evening air traffic. Since he's already close by, Kylo flies over to the Old Senate District on a whim. That's where the Republic has established its temporary headquarters. Rey's in one of those buildings down there, he knows. He had been hoping to get close enough to sense her presence. But unfortunately, his overhead fly-by isn't sufficient proximity. Were this a less dense world, he would probably sense her. But on crowded Coruscant, there are people everywhere projecting Force imprints. It's a lot of background crowd noise to his mind that drowns out Rey's mental signature.
Disappointed, he makes an impromptu decision to meet her in person. He heads for the coordinates of her small studio apartment.
Rey's place is in the Mid-Levels. Luckily, it is easy to break into with the help of the Force. He's hoping his civilian attire with a hood pulled low is sufficient to obscure his face for the security cameras. Inside, her apartment is cramped, wholly interior space with no windows. The furniture is sparse and looks institutional—like it came with the place. Poking around, he discovers Rey owns few possessions, but what's here is unmistakably her. Who else would fill a closet full of water bottles, power converters, and military ration kits? She's hoarding supplies like this is Jakku and she doesn't know where her next meal will come from. Other than that, Kylo finds some clothes and some tools.
Either the Republic doesn't pay well or Rey is frugal. Well, maybe it's a little of both. But feeling unsettled by all her hoarding habits, he reaches into his pocket for a credit card. It's totally untraceable, freely spendable currency. He tucks into a drawer of clothes where he knows Rey will find it after he's gone and it's too late to refuse it. Because really, an Empress shouldn't live quite so austerely.
With a watchful eye on the time, he opens a water bottle, makes himself at home, and waits. At most, he has an hour. Rey had better get here soon.
Thirty minutes later, he senses her presence.
The feeling is mutual. He hears her voice in his mind. I know you're close. Where are you?
I'm in your apartment. Are you alone?
Yes. I thought we weren't going to do this.
Yeah, me too.
What changed your mind?
Watching Astral Sidhu's face when she talked about his grandfather—that's what changed his mind.
That wrinkled old lady had loved Lord Vader. Seeing her expression as she spoke of him had made Kylo want someone to love him like that. Someone to acknowledge his faults but also to see the best in him. Someone to remember him for more than newsfeed headlines. Someone to know the private man behind the public figure. That had him longing for Rey. She knows the truth of him, like Astral knows the truth of Darth Vader.
But he's embarrassed to explain that. So, he confesses his neediness differently: I couldn't stay away. How close are you?
"I'm here," she replies in person as the door to the apartment slides open.
He grins. "Perfect timing." A reunion with Rey is everything he needs in the moment. As soon as she locks the door, he's all over her with his arms and mouth. Needy doesn't begin to describe how he feels right now.
Rey returns his passion until she breathes out into his kiss, "Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"
"It's my sword." He produces it from where it has been secreted among his civilian clothes.
"Wait—me too." Rey unclips her own weapon that hangs at her waist. "Can't let you Snoke me while I'm distracted," she jokes as she tosses it next to where he discards his on a nearby table.
Then, it's quickly back to kisses as he grabs Rey and pins her against the nearest wall of her tiny apartment. Things are escalating fast. He's ready, oh so ready. Is she ready as well?
"Got a blaster in your pocket too?" Rey gasps as he grinds up against her.
"That's no blaster," he chuckles. That's him as hard as a steel gun barrel, cocked, and ready to fire.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Rey's hands fumble at his waist for his zipper. It's hot. Never before has a woman so boldly reached into his pants. He's throbbing in her hands, groaning at her touch.
Looking around, he rasps, "Where's the bed? Where do you sleep?"
"It's a pullout couch. Forget it." Rey is busy with her own clothes now. She steps out of her boots and shimmies down her pants and panties. Then, she puts hands on his shoulders and looks up to ask, "Ready?"
He nods blankly. He's up for anything so long as it's quick.
"Let's go." With a little hop, Rey wraps her legs around his waist. Surprised, a bit off balance, and afraid to drop her, he immediately grabs for her ass.
Oh. That's what she has in mind. Well, Hell yes. Kylo walks forward to pin her against the wall again as he rams his body home, sheathing himself inside. Oh Force, that feels amazing. He starts thrusting hard as Rey hangs on loosely. Soon, he is rutting away with abandon, slamming her back against the wall repeatedly with his enthusiasm. This is a wild, lusty fuck-they're not making love. But it's just what his stressed out, time pressured self needs. Sex is his new favorite cardio, and this position manages to throw in some strength training as well.
He's panting and she is sighing in between shrieks. Is he hurting her? No. The bond tells him Rey is loving his rough physicality. It's over too soon as he spends himself with a ragged, guttural groan. Rey sighs out her contentment as she hugs him close before her feet again find the ground.
There's no dreamy, sated afterglow. There isn't time. "I need to go," he mutters as he begins to right his clothes.
"Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am? Is that it?" Rey reacts to his brusqueness.
He shrugs and answers sheepishly. "I don't have time for anything else."
"I know." The bond tells him she's not upset. Rey is very aware of how dangerous this is, even if she's disappointed they have so little time.
As she too begins to right her clothes, she starts talking business in a quick download of her latest intel. "Tomorrow morning we're going to agree to meet for in-person talks like you demanded. Basically, there's no way those opposed to a deal on our side could convince everyone else that the First Order won't immediately attack if we refuse. Everyone agreed to three days of talks, if only to give us more time to marshal our defenses."
"Good." That's progress. He retrieves his sword and secrets it into his tunic.
Rey reports, "I'm not on the short list to be one of the five negotiators. I'm only the Jedi Observer, so I can't be in the room with your guys haggling. But I will be in the break-out room for the Republic team strategizing sessions."
"That's fine. I've got my guys in the room to report on what happens there. What I need is your behind-the-scenes perspective."
"Okay," she looks relieved at his reaction. But she worries about the upcoming diplomatic showdown. "Ben, you made this so public that things are going to be intense. After this gets announced tomorrow, the whole galaxy will be watching and holding their breath."
He shrugs. As far as he's concerned, there's no new threat. He's been telling everyone he will invade the Core if there is no ceasefire for weeks now. The only news here is the three-day deadline. "This could be the breakthrough we've been waiting for."
"Or, it could mean full scale war resumes. Ben, Finn's already mobilizing ships and troops. Local systems will be activating their civilian defense. You've just created the ultimate game of chicken and the fate of the galaxy is riding on it." Rey's voice is becoming shrill, betraying all of her trepidation.
"The Force is with us," he soothes. "Have faith."
She's unmoved. Rey shoots him a serious, warning look. "Ben, please be reasonable . . . " She says it like he's the problem.
He's a little indignant at that attitude. "I'm a very reasonable guy . . . it's all the unreasonable crazies who surround me who are the problem. I'll do my best to get to a deal, but the Republic must compromise as well."
"I don't know if they will do that," Rey worries. "If this were just you and me in charge, things would be different . . ."
She's right. For all their power and influence, neither a Republic Jedi nor a Supreme Leader Apprentice can unilaterally solve things on behalf of everyone. And this is the way it ought to be, Kylo thinks. Force users prompt the change, but the rest of the galaxy needs to follow. Peace requires more than just him and Rey dictating things from on high. So, he suspects, will balance. "We'll just have to do our best and see what happens."
"I'm afraid," she mutters, raising worried eyes to his. "What if these talks make things worse, not better? What then?"
"The Force is with us. The Force will find a way." She needs to have faith that the universe favors their aims. If this doesn't work, another path to peace and to balance will open up in its place. For the universe act and reacts constantly to the whims of free will. But seeing her misgivings, Kylo thinks she's talking about them as a couple as much as she's talking about the fate of the galaxy. And that suddenly makes him scared too.
Fear makes him aggressive. Suddenly, he's in her face growling, "No matter what happens at these talks, Rey, nothing changes between us. Got it? If war resumes, it won't be our fault. Promise me you won't let it tear us apart."
She blinks back at him, taken aback by his abrupt vehemence.
That ups his anxiety level. "Say it! Say that we'll be fine!" He needs to hear this before they part.
This is the moment for Rey to volunteer that she loves him. That's all he really needs to know. But she still can't say it. She simply replies with what he asks for: "Whatever happens, we'll be fine." She's more hopeful than certain, but it's enough. He kisses her hard and deep before he heads to the door.
"Be careful," Rey calls after him.
He pauses on the door threshold to flash her a smirk over his shoulder. "Hey, it's me."
She groans. "That's not very reassuring."
For all her skill and courage, Rey is fundamentally more risk averse than he is now. She left Exogol uncertain, sober, and matured by the experience, whereas he let go of many inhibitions and fears after his own death and resurrection. Death just doesn't have the same sort of sting now that he's been there, done that. Plus, once you've died in vain after being yeeted down a chasm like a chump, you want to make sure that the next time you go out in a blaze of glory with a full set of life experiences. So marrying his enemy Jedi and issuing invasion ultimatums to the Republic seem sort of reasonable now. He's playing to win for himself and for the galaxy, and he will be as bold as it takes to succeed.
But today, there's no time left to tarry. He slips off into the Coruscant night, enjoying Rey's mental connection that lingers even after she is far gone from his sight. She's in his mind . . . hanging on . . . anticipating. Yes, this is what he had hoped for. At the last possible second, he thinks the thought that he always thinks right before the bond closes: I love you, scavenger.
She relaxes and their waning connection floods with warm joy before it fades. Rey had been waiting for him to say it, hoping he would say it. And that, more than anything, encourages him. For all her bravado, Rey is much more comfortable demanding things for others than she is for herself. Part of him wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake her as he tells her that she is worthy and deserving of love. That she should stop shying away from the closeness she clearly craves. She should accept it and return it to him—because he needs love, too. But that's not a good strategy. He must be patient, Kylo knows. But damn, how he hates what Jakku has done to his girl.
On the flight back home, he mulls over what's left to do to prepare for the upcoming showdown. He knows he has one chance at agreeing to peace. If he can't get to a deal, then peace will have to come from victory. And that, Kylo privately knows, is a long way off. Because without the leverage of a super weapon or the advantage of an enormous fleet, the First Order is unlikely to dominate the Republic any time soon. He simply doesn't have the manpower or equipment. His capital ships number less than twenty currently. But if he had more, he couldn't staff them. For he has neither an unlimited supply of battle droids nor battalions of clones bred for combat at his disposal. His ragtag band is what little remains of Snoke's once mighty armada which was largely squandered by hubris and Imperial-era battle plans.
But that's nothing new. He's learned to live with a lot less firepower in the wake of Exogol. By now, he has perfected the hit-and-run tactics the Rebellion and his smuggler father used to much success. But those ploys are suited for the First Order's current defensive posture. He's mostly been seeking to hold onto the Rim and to dislodge its remaining Republic presence. That's very different from a campaign to subdue the Core.
Basically, his invasion threat is a bluff that he can't make good on. Kylo's worried he's a lot like Han Solo when he got caught cheating at sabaac—meaning, there will be Hell to pay when he is exposed.
The best he can predict, if war resumes, it will mean more sporadic skirmishes and random local terrorist style attacks. The big difference will be that the theatre of war will no longer be confined to the Rim systems. The whole galaxy will be in play. But that's just more territory to cover with the same amount of equipment and men. He'll be back to desperately avoiding a climactic battle—trying to stay alive another day, harassing the Republic as best he can. It will drag on and on. Neither side will win. That means everyone loses.
His high command all know the truth: that his push for peace is a means to declare victory and to achieve independence for the Rim because they cannot win it all. We will rule our New Empire unopposed with popular support, he has argued to his staff. The rest of the galaxy will have to wait until we regroup and strengthen. There is plenty of grumbling about downscaling the mission from defeating the Republic to defeating the Republic in the Rim. But for the most part, his commanders seem to accept it as the pragmatic choice under the circumstances.
But for all this to come to fruition, he has to make peace. And that means he needs some bargaining chips to close the gap on Hosnia. Things he can give the Republic that the First Order doesn't care about. There's no time to waste. So on the flight back from Coruscant, he begins formulating ideas and firing off orders.
Thinking of Rey's point about the stormtrooper program, Kylo sends someone to dig into the archives. Does any of the information on the troopers still exist after Starkiller Base, the Supremacy, the Finalizer, and most of the First Order fleet and land bases have been destroyed? It does. The trooper program was the brainchild of Brendol Hux, the father of his longtime now dead nemesis Armitage Hux. Hux Senior being as uptight and grandiose as Hux Junior, he ordered scrupulous records kept with multiple backups. The man must have been determined that his contributions to the First Order cause would remain for posterity. It's a lucky break.
When Kylo listens to an hour long briefing on the information, he learns that a good percentage of the stormtroopers were foundling refugees from the last war or children voluntarily surrendered to the First Order by their destitute parents. Brendol Hux accepted unwanted children of all ages from social service agencies, juvenile detention centers, and hospitals. In some cases, he outright bought children from black market slavers or from willing parents in exchange for cash payments. Other children were abandoned to him anonymously. The rest were taken from frontier settlements under dubious legal authority.
"Do you have information on the origins of FN-2187?" Kylo asks. Yes. It turns out that the traitor with the Force was sold by his spice addicted mother as a newborn. Excellent news, Kylo decides. That is definitely information he can make public to counteract the prevailing narrative that the troopers are all stolen children.
He orders the rest of the First Order archives scoured. Find me lists of detained dissidents and information on their cases. Find me all prisoners of war currently in custody. He plans to deport each and every one of them back to the Republic. He'll call it a prisoner release and amnesty to make it look nice. But basically, he wants rid of these people. Let the Republic pay for their upkeep. They are not welcome in his New Empire.
The war has caused enormous displacement among civilians in the Rim. Some of that is the fault of the First Order, and some of that is the fault of the Republic. Hundreds of thousands are currently missing. Kylo tasks someone with coming up with a proposed registry system for family members to report missing persons and their last known whereabouts, and in turn for displaced refugee survivors to check in and reconnect with relatives. Most are probably dead, but the system is intended to help reunite families and, if possible, provide closure.
Where he can, Kylo decides to provide information and answers. Thinking of his Grandmother's and Rey's advice, he decides to come clean on the past. After all, it was mostly done on Snoke's watch, not his. Now is his chance to differentiate himself from the old Supreme Leader and Emperor Palpatine. They are the extreme hardline past. He is the more moderate, scaled back future. It's a step towards balance, he tells himself.
Next, he instructs his lawyers to draft three versions of a reciprocal apology for the war. Make the first one as general as possible—each side is sorry for their respective roles in the destruction and death caused by the conflict and the policies and events leading up to it. It's a sort of bland, blanket mea culpa with sufficient vagueness for people to read what they want to see into it. Use the words 'Starkiller Base' in the second version and reference Hosnia specifically, he orders. The third version goes even farther by including language denouncing violence as a tool for political reform. It has feelgood language about learning from the mistakes of the past to make the galaxy a better place for all beings, alien and human. Who could oppose that?
But will anyone believe a word of it? He hopes so. He needs people in both the Republic and the Rim to trust his good intentions. Moreover, the words are actually sincere, even if they will be sold to his hardliners as politically expedient non-binding verbiage.
Hopefully, he can get by with the first version. But if he has to, he will agree to the third version. He is mindful of Astral's advice that working toward a better future is the path to transcending a painful past. Here's hoping that wisdom holds true for the galaxy and for himself. He wants to move on from the messy civil wars his family fought for generations. Because if he can deliver peace, he might be able to deliver balance. And then the prophecy of the Chosen One will be fulfilled. The screw-up Padawan turned conflicted Sith Apprentice will turn out to be the greatest Skywalker of all. That's the sort of redemption he's interested in—not a return to the Light Side like his family hoped for.
After a working all-nighter in the cockpit, Kylo lands back at his flagship the next day Coruscant time. The hangar bay is strangely still and silent as he arrives. For hunched over datapads and comlinks or staring up at screens hanging on the wall, the entire crew watches the Republic announcement that they will participate in face-to-face ceasefire talks. It reminds Kylo of Rey's comment that the whole galaxy will be watching how things unfold.
No one pays any attention to the touchdown of the nondescript civilian craft he is flying. But everyone pays attention when the Supreme Leader emerges. He's dressed in cheap looking, bland civilian clothes, but he's still an unmistakable figure. It's the height and the hair and the lightsaber swinging at his hip. People see him, nudge their colleagues and point.
He's marching across the hangar bay to take the elevator to the bridge when a man's voice calls out. "Hey, Leader, Sir!"
The shout gets his attention and everyone else's within earshot.
"Yes?" he responds, stopping to look around for who is addressing him.
"Rim lives matter," the man's voice sounds again. Then, out from under a rack of hanging, parked TIE fighters, a fuel tech in a greasy First Order jumpsuit steps forward and salutes respectfully.
Kylo nods to him. "That's right."
"So, you gonna grovel to their whining about Hosnia? You gonna sell us out?" The fuel tech has a broad Outer Rim drawl, like so many First Order personnel. It's the sort of accent that people in the Core make fun of. They think it means you're stupid and uneducated. The latter might be true, Kylo knows, but the former usually isn't.
He decides to engage the fuel tech directly. As he walks forward, Kylo calls to the man, "I am going to secure our independence. If that takes telling lies, that's fine. The Republic lies to the galaxy. So can we, if need be."
The fuel tech considers that answer and nods slowly.
Kylo asks him directly, "Are you okay with that?"
"I'll kill for our cause," the man announces proudly as several of his colleagues in the near vicinity nod agreement. "I'll lie for it, too. Whatever it takes."
Kylo joins him in that sentiment, solemnly repeating, "Whatever it takes." He was ruthless in war, and now he will be ruthless in peace. But this time deceit will have a noble purpose.
On impulse, he offers his hand to the fuel tech. It's a gesture grand Emperor Palpatine would never have done, but Supreme Leader Ren is a politician's son and he has a burgeoning 'man of the people' reputation to uphold.
The fuel tech looks scared to shake his bare hand, so Kylo encourages the man, "Go on." Then, he walks up to each of the guy's scared looking colleagues and does the same.
"Whatever it takes," he repeats the fuel tech's original words as he offers his handshake to three guys, a woman, and an alien on the fuel crew.
"Whatever it takes," each of them confirms.
"Tell your friends and family back home," Kylo instructs, "that we will do and say whatever it takes to get what we want from the Republic. And if they refuse to be reasonable, we will resume the war."
This is what counts as consensus building in the First Order. Kylo has no doubt that his little stunt today will make it all around the ship by lunchtime. And that's important. Because he can't publicly announce on First Order media that he's lying in the ceasefire agreement. But he needs his rank-and-file people to believe that to keep their support.
This peace deal may turn out to be his most sly bluff yet. He's lying to the Republic about the invasion threat to get them to agree to independence. He's lying to the First Order that the ceasefire agreement terms will be mere deceit. He's using his Sith manipulation skills to broker peace. It's Dark Side means for a Light Side goal. He's sure that means he's charting a path closer to balance. And with a little help from the Force and Rey, he might just pull this off.